What's In a Name?
by Psyched
Summary: Deeks and Kensi learn some personal details about each other early (and late) in their partnership.
1. Kensi Marie Blye

**AN** : Credit for the idea of this entire story goes to Phnxgirl, who mentioned one day that when Deeks said, "Hell hath no fury like Kensi Marie Blye" in Bounty (2x08), it seemed awfully early in their partnership for him to know her middle name. This takes place shortly before that.

* * *

Kensi gripped the steering wheel tighter in a last attempt to restrain herself. It didn't work. "Deeks, if you don't stop squirming around, I swear I'm going to –"

"What, turn me into stone, Medusa? How do you sit so still for so long, enter a shamanic trance or something?" Deeks asked as he continued to twist in the passenger seat of Kensi's SRX, managing to fold one leg up under himself.

"It's called behaving professionally on a stakeout. You might want to try it sometime."

"Yeah, no. I have too much energy for that. I can't be contained. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm like a jungle cat, always stealthily on the prowl, tail gracefully undulating." Deeks' hand mirrored his words.

"More like a puppy with ADHD and a teeny-tiny bladder."

"So you think I'm cute and cuddly. Good to know."

"No, you're furry, twitchy, and pee a lot."

"Since I'm feeling generous, you get a touché for that. And in return, I'll let you distract me for a while. You up for it?"

"I'm not your personal play thing. And we're not supposed to be distracted, we're supposed to have our eyes on that building in case Corporal Andersen shows up to visit his girlfriend."

"Right, and if he does we haul him in for questioning. But that doesn't mean we need to sit here in complete stillness and silence."

"I've never been on a stakeout with anyone less still or silent than you, Deeks! All I've heard since we got here is you tapping your fingers, bouncing your legs, clearing your throat, cracking your joints, flipping your hair –"

"Flipping my hair? What does that even mean? And how can you possibly hear it?"

"It's, you know… when you flick your head so your hair falls into place. And you're right, I can't hear that. It's probably the rocks in your head knocking around."

"Wow, that was hurtful."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Can we please just focus on the job?"

"I'm sure there's something we can do with our mouths while we keep lookout for Andersen." When his partner's eyes squinted in suspicion, Deeks clarified with a grin, "No, that's not what I meant. Trust me, you wouldn't be able to keep your eyes open if we were to do _that_." He snapped his fingers, "I got it, let's play Twenty Questions! Except in this version, I get to ask you twenty questions about yourself and you answer them."

"I'm not playing games with you while we're working."

"But you'll play them after work? Have to keep that in mind."

"No."

"Kensi," he practically whined. "Okay, one question then."

Kensi kept her eyes straight ahead, on the building, her mouth shut.

"Please?" Deeks begged. "Just a little something to help us get to know one another while we're sitting here with nothing else to do. I'll ask one, then you ask one. Or you can ask first. I don't care, I'm an open book." Kensi looked like she was about to crack, but then seemed to strengthen her resolve to ignore him, so Deeks continued, "You know what, forget about the game, then. Instead I'll tell you everything you could possibly want to know about LAPD Detective Marty Deeks. Hold your questions for the end, if you can." He took a breath. "I was born on a dark and stormy night –"

Exasperated, Kensi blurted out, "Fine, what's your question?"

His thoughts raced for a second or two before spitting out the first thing that came to mind, "What's your middle name?"

"Really, Deeks? All this for my middle name?"

"Okay, that probably wouldn't have been in the top ten of my twenty, but I felt the pressure to perform and that was what came out. But it's nice and easy, yeah? So what is it?"

"You can probably find it in the LAPD database."

"Right, but the point is to kill some time now, and to bond a little as partners. Me running a background check on you, while it may reveal some interesting facts, wouldn't be nearly as illuminating as getting it directly from the source. Or as fun, probably."

"This is your idea of fun?"

"Granted, it's not as entertaining as hitting a bar and liquoring you up to get you to spill all your dirty little secrets, but since we're sitting in a car on a stakeout, I'll take it."

"First, there's not enough alcohol on the planet to get me to share my secrets, dirty or otherwise with you. Second, you're a detective, why don't you detect?"

"C'mon, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Deeks' whine was becoming more pronounced.

"What are you, five?"

"You want to do this the hard way, fine." He thought for a moment before a grin split his face. "My superior detective skills did lead me to one of your aliases on a dating website. So maybe Ms. Charlene St. James's first name is really your middle name?"

"No," Kensi said with a slight shake of her head. "And thanks for ruining that for me, by the way."

Deeks scoffed, "Please, you're not going to find Mr. Right online. Mr. Right Now, at best. But I could maybe introduce you to a friend or two at some point. Especially once we get to know each other a little more and I get a better idea of who would be a good match for you."

"Like I would ever date a friend of yours."

"Only because that's as close as you'll ever get to dating me, princess." With that, Deeks quickly popped the glove box in front of him and snatched Kensi's wallet from inside. He held it up, waving it teasingly in the air. "Last chance, before I pull out the next weapon in my detective's arsenal."

Kensi said nothing, but flipped her hand over, signaling that he should proceed.

Deeks opened the wallet and found Kensi's driver license easily behind the plastic window. "Ah ha! This is what we in the detecting business call a clue. Says here, 'Kensi M. Blye.' So your middle name begins with an M."

Kensi raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"And wait for this bit of deduction…I also see your year of birth is 1982. Add to that your obvious reluctance to tell me your middle name, and I can only conclude that it embarrasses you. Now who might your parents have named you after in the early eighties? Could it be Madonna, the Queen of Pop? Kensi Madonna has a lovely ring to it."

"My dad was a Marine, Deeks," she drew the word out proudly. "He wasn't some teeny-bopper Madonna groupie."

"Hmm, was your mother particularly moved by the performance of the great Meryl Streep in 'Kramer vs Kramer' then? Kensi Meryl sounds so LA, doesn't it? Bet you're glad you were born a girl, otherwise I might be having this conversation with Special Agent Dustin Blye right now, yeah?"

Kensi gave him a sour look.

"So not Madonna or Meryl. But I still think it's a name you're not fond of. How about something like Kensi Mackenzie. Unless of course Kensi is short for Makenzie?"

"I'm surprised you ever earned a gold badge with deductive skills like that. For your information, I'm named for my maternal grandfather Kenneth."

"You'll tell me that, but not your middle name?"

"That came up naturally. Or as naturally as anything can in this inane conversation."

"You realize you leave me no choice now, right? I have to list every ridiculous M-name I can think – wait! What if it's _not_ ridiculous? What if it's the strongest, coolest, most _masculine_ M-name of all. Kensi Martin Blye – you didn't want me to know we're name twins!"

"Oh my gosh, _you're_ ridiculous," Kensi said on a small laugh.

"Alright then, here goes: Mildred… Mathilda… Myrna… Meredith… Maude… Mimi… Marion… Marge… Madge… Midge… Magdalena… Mistie… Marsha, Marsha, Marsha… Millicent… Merlot… Moscato… Marsala… Maple… Mahogany… Mesquite…"

"Stop, just stop! Those last few aren't even names, they're wines and woods."

"And sadly none of them are sandwiched between Kensi and Blye on your birth certificate."

"You don't know that." She pulled her eyes away from the building in front of them and spared him a quick glance, "You just rattled them off and barely took a breath."

"True, but I was studying you the entire time, and except for a little twitch now and then as you were trying to suppress an adorably amused grin, there were no other micro-expressions telling me that I'd hit the target, or even come close."

Kensi nodded at the accuracy of his statement and her lips twisted into a begrudging smile, impressed with Deeks' observation. "Can we put this to rest now?"

"No way, I'm just warming up. I can go on like this indefinitely."

"Please don't."

"How about you give me a hint then? Just one little clue?"

"I already laid down a clue, Detective. Not my fault you didn't pick it up."

"Wait, what? You did not. When did you give me a clue?"

"Earlier."

"Really?" Deeks squinted his eyes as he thought back on their conversation. It wasn't difficult to parse Kensi's comments since he'd done most of the talking. He watched his partner carefully as he repeated, "I ruined the online dating thing for you; your father was a Marine, not a Madonna fanboy; your grandfather's name was Kenneth; I'm ridiculous, what else is new; you know your wines and woods." He smiled, "The only thing you reacted to just now, as much as you tried to hide it, was your Dad being a Marine. But I already knew that."

Kensi's head cocked subtly and one eyebrow barely rose as she continued to survey the street ahead of her.

He spoke slowly, gauging her response as he did. "Your father was a Marine," Deeks pronounced it as Kensi had before, and heard the possibilities. "Is it that obvious? Your middle name is Marina?"

Her lips pursed slightly.

"Nope, not Marina, then." But Deeks knew he was close if the glint in Kensi's eye was any indication. Another beat, and his face lit up as he said on a sigh, "Marie."

Now Kensi turned her head to look at him full on, a small smile gracing her face. "Congratulations, Detective Deeks. You figured out my middle name. Happy now?"

"So your parents named you after your mother's father and your father's profession?"

"No, Marie was a common middle name for the women in my father's family, he wanted to maintain the tradition. Especially since my first name was on the unusual side."

Deeks nodded, satisfied with her answer and his accomplishment at having learned this information about his partner. "Okay, Special Agent Kensi _Marie_ Blye, now it's your turn to guess my middle name."

"No, really, I'm good. Let's leave a little mystery in our partnership for now."

"C'mon, you afraid you won't be able to figure it out?"

"No," she said indignantly. "I could if I wanted. I just don't want to."

"I'll even spot you a hint. It begins with an A."

"Andersen," Kensi replied immediately and confidently.

Pleasantly surprised, Deeks enthused, "Right out of the box with a solid Norwegian-American name! I guess you do occasionally listen when I talk. Impressive, but unfortunately wrong."

"No, idiot," she jerked her chin toward the building in front of them, all business. "Corporal Andersen, the man we've been waiting for. Just pulled up." Kensi opened the driver's door and got out.

"Ah, yeah, no. Of course that's what you meant." Deeks jumped out of the car after his partner. When he caught up to her as she was crossing the street toward their suspect, he offered, "So that was fun, yeah? Maybe next time we can play Would You Rather or Two Truths and a Lie. You know, different icebreakers to get to know each other. Since you didn't seem too keen on Twenty Questions."

Deeks wasn't disheartened when his partner's only response was to pin him with a deadly glare, which he discovered was only marginally better than her punch. But he was curious, relentless, and a damned good detective. And it was entertaining as hell to rile her up. Whatever the method, one day he'd know everything there was to know about Kensi Marie Blye, he was sure.

* * *

 **AN2** : Chapter two will focus on (you guessed it) Deeks' middle name. I know many fic writers have used Andrew, but as far as I've been able to discern (and I used some of my own detective skills in the process), that's not canon. So unless someone can give me proof that Deeks' middle name is in fact Andrew on the show (I'll settle for an episode name and I'll re-watch it or read the transcript myself), I'm going to use something different in my story. But please do let me know if we've heard or seen Deeks' middle name, be it Andrew or something else. That chapter should be up next Sunday, so let me know ASAP, please.

 **AN3** : No offense meant if your name is any of the ones Deeks suggested as those Kensi would be embarrassed by; several of them are taken from friends of mine (some, of course, are from TV shows, and some are in fact woods and wines).


	2. Martin A Deeks

**AN:** This takes place sometime in the near future. A big thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and/or reviewed the first chapter. The banter was such fun to write, so I'm glad you thought it sounded like them! Hopefully this does too.

* * *

"So are we ready to do this?" Kensi asked as she dropped onto the couch next to her fiancé, laptop in hand.

"The wedding is less than three months out, so yeah, I'd say it's time to get our marriage license." Deeks handed his beloved a beer after she settled in with the computer.

"And we're sure we can get to a county clerk's office together sometime in the next two weeks to pick it up?"

"As long as the world doesn't come to an end, I think we can manage it, Kensalina."

"Don't even joke about that, Deeks."

"Yeah, no, you're right. I take it back."

"Which reminds me, we need to take Monty back to the groomer soon. He's getting way too scruffy-looking. I figure if he gets it cut short now, he'll only need a trim right before the wedding."

Deeks ran a hand through his hair and down his face. "Kind of like me?"

She studied him closely before proclaiming, "No, I like this level of scruff. The hair on your head could maybe be a tiny bit shorter, but the face is perfect."

"So's yours," he held up his bottle of beer in a toast to her.

Kensi flashed Deeks the smile he loved before she turned her attention to the computer, "Okay, here goes." She typed, clicked, and found her way to the Los Angeles County Registrar-Recorder/County Clerk's webpage, and from there to the online Application for Marriage License. "Blah, blah, blah, legal stuff…yes, I read and understood the requirements. And I will check the little box to prove it," she muttered.

"Wow, you sounded remarkably like my least favorite law school professor. I swear, he started lecturing and all of a sudden it was like I was Charlie Brown, 'Wah wah, wah, wah wah wah.'"

Kensi laughed at Deeks' dead-on impression of the adults in the Peanuts movies. "You're not going to start hearing me like that once we're married, are you?"

"Not unless you start droning on about civil procedure." He thought for a beat, "Or CrossFit."

Kensi made a face, "Then I guess we're safe." Scanning the website, she said, "We're going to need our driver licenses, you want to grab those while I get started?"

"Sure thing." Deeks got up but stopped to quickly press his lips to the top of Kensi's head.

When he returned and gave her the licenses, Kensi declared, "I made an executive decision and named myself 'Party A' for the purposes of this process."

"Sounds about right," Deeks said with a grin. "Don't forget, we're getting the confidential marriage license."

"Done. That was the first thing I had to select. Good thing we're already living together, since that's one of the requirements."

"Fun fact: the confidential option was written into California law in the late nineteenth century so that people in more remote areas of the state who had been living in sin, or heaven forbid already had children out of wedlock, could get married without anyone knowing that the official status came after all the fun times."

"Really? I figured it was because of all the weird Hollywood types wanting to keep that information private." Kensi shrugged at Deeks' head-shake. "Whatever, it works for us not having it in the public record."

Deeks peeked over her shoulder, "How far did you get?"

"My current last, first, and middle names are in, and I'm just about to enter my new last name."

"Last chance; you're sure about Blye-Deeks?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I don't want to give up Blye, but I also want it known I'm related to you and our kids. You good with that?"

"Absolutely. But like I said before, I'm willing to go with the combined name of Bleeks or Dye if you want."

"Then what would people call you?" Kensi grinned and smacked Deeks lightly on the thigh. She left her hand where it fell and offered him a warm squeeze. "Besides, we've talked about this, babe. You gave up Brandel and took Deeks for a reason, and you made it a name to be proud of. Our children should have it."

Deeks picked up her hand and kissed the back. "Points taken. Kensi Blye-Deeks it is."

He watched as she entered their address, her date of birth, parents' names and places of birth, and finally her driver license information.

"Your turn." Kensi narrated as she clicked and typed, "Party B. Marriage Party: Groom. First name: Martin. Middle name…" Kensi typed an "A" and then looked at Deeks expectantly.

Deeks eyed her back, brows lowered in confusion and then raised in shock.

Kensi squinted, trying to reach back into the farthest recesses of her memory. She couldn't recall a single instance of seeing anything other than Martin A. Deeks on any official document. She knew for a fact that was what it said on his LAPD identification and sneaking a quick peek, confirmed that's what was on his driver license as well.

"Say it," Deeks dared.

"I don't know your middle name," Kensi admitted, a little embarrassed.

"You mean you forgot it."

"I'd have to know it to forget it, and you've never told me. Though there was the one time you claimed that Nonsense was your middle name."

"Really, Kensalina _Marie_?! We've worked together, side-by-side, day in and day out for more than eight years. Lived together for more than two. We're a couple of months shy of our wedding and you don't know this very vital piece of information about your partner and husband-to-be?"

Kensi scoffed, "It's one small detail, Deeks. Obviously, it's never come up before, so it can't be that big of a deal." When he kept staring her down, she continued, "Besides, I know all the really important things about you."

"Like what?" he asked, intrigued.

She put the laptop aside and slid over to nestle against him, "Like how kind, compassionate, and loving you are. That you feel most at peace on a surfboard and are a closet fan of musical theater. You're moderately bright and have a decent sense of humor," with that she pinched his side teasingly. "You're a great kisser but a lousy guesser. You can pick locks and pockets, but can't hotwire a car. I know where you say you're ticklish but secretly love it when I touch you there, and where you actually are ticklish. I know your preferred positions when we breach a room and in bed." As she spoke, Kensi shifted to sit astride Deeks' lap.

Pleased by both her actions and words, Deeks pulled her closer and asked, "Yeah? Where do you think this particular position ranks?"

Kensi slid her arms around his shoulders and leaned in to give him a searing kiss. "Deeks," she breathed into his ear after nibbling her way there.

"Hmm?" he murmured as he trailed his hands from her back to her hips.

"Tell me your middle name and we'll move this party to the bedroom where we can have fun with your top three favorite positions."

Deeks opened his mouth to answer before he caught himself. "Ooh, you almost got me, my sexy little siren." He tapped a finger to the tip of her nose. "And for the record, this very topic has in fact come up before."

"When?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Sometime during our first year as partners. I'm pretty sure we were on a stakeout and getting to know one another a little better and we were talking about our middle names."

Kensi shook her head, "I don't remember—wait! Are you talking about the day you harassed me, trying to find out _my_ middle name?"

"Harassed is such a strong word, princess. I'd say it was more a determined discussion, as in I was determined to find out your middle name and you were determined not to tell me. But po-tay-to po-tah-to. My point is that during that conversation, I offered to tell you my middle name in exchange for yours. You declined, to put it politely."

She started to argue, but then remembered she probably wouldn't have been very nice to him back then. She also tried to recall the stake-out he was referring to, and how he figured out her middle name. "Deeks," Kensi whined, dropping her head to his shoulder. "Come on, we need to finish the application," she said as she climbed off his legs and dropped back onto the cushion next to him.

"Uh, uh, uh," he said as he wagged his finger. "You don't win my hand in marriage until you figure out my middle name, Kensi-stiltskin."

"Pretty sure _you_ would be Rumpelstiltskin in this scenario, babe. And I thought anyone who was your partner long enough automatically got the prize of your hand in marriage."

"Ten years, and we ain't there yet, so you have to earn it another way. You've been my partner long enough for something else though. I'm sure you've picked up some of my superior detecting skills by osmosis or association, or another means of transference."

Kensi rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Fine. Andrew."

"Nope."

"Adam."

"Uh-uh."

"Aaron"

"You're getting colder," he sang.

"Adolescent."

"Ha."

"Abnormal."

"You mean unique, I'm sure."

"Annoying."

"If you don't start taking this seriously you'll probably be at it until we reach that ten-year mark." At Kensi's look, Deeks back-peddled, "But as a thank-you for that smoking hot lip-lock you laid on me moments ago, I'll give you a hint."

"I don't need a hint," she said, insulted.

"Of course you don't," he mocked.

Kensi considered her fiancé for a few beats. Deciding he was right and that it might take her at least until their wedding date without a little help, she relented. "Alright, I'll take the hint."

"Oh, sorry sugar bear. The cost has gone up since my initial offer and your subsequent rejection of said offer."

She glared at him and he responded with a wide smile. There may have been a time when that look would have sent chills down Deeks' spine, but now he just thought it was cute. "You do the laundry and the dishes for the next month and you get a clue." Catching the gleam in Kensi's eyes, Deeks quickly added, "No mixing your darks in with my whites either, Melissa."

Since that was exactly what she'd been thinking, Kensi knew better than to deny Deeks' insinuation. "Agreed," she said instead but muttered, "Barney" under her breath.

Deeks choose to ignore that, happy with his end of the bargain. "I share my middle name with a legendary historical figure or two. Their first names, that is, not middle names."

"What kind of crappy clue is that?" Kensi demanded.

"Afraid you won't be able to figure it out, Kens? Then how about I just tell you the name, like I wanted to all those years ago. And in return, all you have to do is proclaim in front of Sam, Callen, Nell and Beale that I am the Ultimate Detective and can out-deduce you any day of the week."

This time Kensi's glare really did frighten him a little.

"Challenge accepted," Kensi declared. She thought for a moment or two before making her next guess: an old one about another name of his. "Apollo," she said with a smile.

"It wasn't my stage name, and it's not my middle name. Though it's good to know you consistently think of the god of the sun, music, and poetry when you think of me."

"Wasn't he also the god of the plague?" she teased before tossing out other names. "Okay, how about Agamemnon? Antony? Abraham? Aristotle? Alexander? Aloysius? Adolf? Amadeus? Anne?"

"Uh, how about no, laa, lie, nie, não, nein, nyet, nah, and o-nay."

"Clever boy, saying no in multiple languages."

Deeks nodded his acceptance of Kensi's compliment, "Danke, merci, gracias, grazie, spasiba, arigato, obrigado, and anks-thay. And did you notice, not all the same languages as the no's."

"Yeah, I got it. But I'm clever too. You're not the only one who knows how to pay attention to body language. And I'm pretty sure I figured it out," Kensi announced with a huge grin.

"Impossible. I don't have a tell."

"That adorable little sigh of yours and how you mess with your bangs are the first ones that come to mind, my love, but that's not what I'm talking about here."

"So enlighten me. What did I do that clued you in to what you _think_ is my middle name?"

"You keep glancing toward that wall," Kensi explained as she pointed to the far side of the living room. "On the other side of which is the garage. Where, among other things, is the mini fridge where you keep Artie's coat and the rest of his smelly accoutrements. Artie is short for Arthur. Which is the first name of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of Sherlock Holmes. Not to mention King Arthur, arguably the most notable of the Knights of the Round Table. And, if I remember correctly, one of your first guesses of my middle name was an alias of mine. That would be a natural assumption if you used yours as an alias."

Deeks laughed, "Touché, my Queen Guinevere. Well done. I see my keen deductive skills _have_ rubbed off on you over the years."

"Martin Arthur Deeks," Kensi said experimentally. "Family names?"

He made a face. "Yeah, both from the Brandel side, which is why I prefer to be called Deeks."

Kensi nodded in understanding.

"Although…I could probably get used to hearing you say it like you just did every once in a while." This time it was Deeks who initiated Kensi's maneuver back onto his lap.

"Like when I'm irritated with you?" She turned on her best nagging voice and ordered, "Martin Arthur Deeks, you better take that garbage out today."

"God no—you sounded like my mother just then," he shivered. "But maybe now it can take on a good connotation. I mean, the first and only time you called me Martin was when you proposed. The next time will probably be during our wedding. Two pretty incredible moments to hear you say my given names."

Kensi smiled his favorite smile. "Oh, I think I can come up with a few more incredible moments to say them between now and then," she whispered as she began nipping at his neck and ear. "In fact, how about we finish this application and then head into the bedroom to see how many times you can make me call out your names," she dropped her voice lower still and said seductively, "Martin Arthur Deeks?"

"Challenge definitely accepted, Kensi Marie Blye."

* * *

 **AN2** : Phnxgirl gave me Deeks' middle name and the idea that it's where Artie's name came from. Also, I wish I could take credit for actually planting a hint about Deeks' middle name in the first chapter (with his first guess being one of Kensi's aliases). Phnxgirl thought I was that clever, but she was the one who made the connection.

And great minds obviously think alike, French Fan!


End file.
